postWhedon Buffyverse  Episode 2 Thousandth Man
by jayman419
Summary: After Not Fade Away, everyone must find a way to avert the coming Apocalypse. Angel, Spike and Illyria fight off the armies of W&H in the L.A. while Buffy runs for her life in Europe and Faith makes a desperate stand at the Cleveland Hellmouth.
1. Chapter 1

Dedicated to my lovely wife and research assistant, who makes this and all things possible.

Use the chapter menu in the upper right to navigate between multiple chapters in the same episode. Visit my page for a link to the first episode.

Episode 2: _The Thousandth Man_

* * *

Author's Note: This is my post-Whedon Buffyverse (before the events of _Fray)_. It's rated **Mature** for some dialogue, non-graphic sexual themes, and violence. 

I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. I don't consider anything except aired episodes as canon. Character death has occurred, but I don't see it being very common.

Let's pretend HBO (or whoever) picked up the rights on both shows but decided to combine them into a single series and bump up the budget. To better reflect the nature of television I focus on action and dialogue more than descriptive narrative. I sometimes use stings and hooks before I cut to a new scene, and solid lines indicate a fade out.

_Chapters_ will comprise several scenes (about 10-15 pages worth via MSWord) and new ones should appear every couple of days. _Episodes_ will be several chapters with the same general arc. Some episodes will be stand-alone, and some will be the seasonal arc.

I'm moving soon, so I may disappear for a little while. Everything should be sorted out by early October. I'm going to do all twenty-two episodes no matter how long it takes.

Thanks to Mutant Enemy for not suing fan-fiction writers and thanks to you for reading what we make. (If it's not presumptuous to assume that six posts qualify me as a writer.)

I hope you enjoy.

jayman

p.s. Please drop me a line at and tell me what you think. I also have spoilers available if you like them.

* * *

"Can she even do that?" Angel asked, pressing one of his hands to the back of his head. 

"I guess she just did," Spike replied, his voice shaking. He took a deep breath to see if he could smell anything, but they were gone. All was quiet inside the lobby of TNIF Credit Union, the home of Illyria's portal to Vahla Ha'nesh. Willow and Kennedy stood off to one side, holding hands, waiting for someone to respond to their presence.

Sin Jinn looked between the two vampires. "Why didn't she open the portal, then?"

"Illyria just took Dawn," Spike said, agony obvious on his face. Saying it out loud seemed to change it somehow, make it more real. His eyes went vacant and he was somewhere else in his mind… standing on top of a shoddily built framework, watching everything climb away from him as Doc tossed him over casually over the side. The first fight that ever mattered, and he got played for a punk.

Spike looked to Willow pleadingly, but she was already in motion. Components bags flew out of her pockets, a table appeared out of nowhere. Willpower alone was enough for potions and beakers to begin soaring of their own volition, spreading necessary ingredients atop the table. Kennedy knew enough to stand back but a few things in the air nearly clipped Angel. He stepped over to Spike.

"I should have known." Spike said, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had his hands clasped tight, pulling his jacket around his body like a baby's blanket. "I should have seen what she was going to do."

"None of us can see the future," Angel said. He put his hand on Spike's shoulder but Spike just shrugged it off.

"I knowwhat Dawn is," Spike said. "I should have realized that Illyria would see it, too."

"Wait, what is she?" Angel asked, but Spike ignored him.

"I should have _protected _her." Spike crouched down, not on his knees, but not standing either, and began rocking back and forth. "I should've … I should've…"

"Great," Angel said, standing and turning to the others. "Spike's a basket case."

"I'm almost ready," Willow said, looking up with her face framed by that shock white hair. She turned pointedly to Spike. "Don't worry, we'll find her."

"You know," Xander said, with a sigh. "When I called her Buffy said this was going to happen. Her exact words were that we wouldn't be in L.A. for a full day before…"

"You're not helping," Angel said.

"I'm not trying to," Xander said, nodding towards Willow. "She's helping. What do you want me to do?"

"Enough, both of you," Willow said. "I won't let you start in on each other because you can't get your hands on the person you're really mad at."

"What do you think she's doing with Dawn?" Xander asked.

"Well, Dawn was a key…"

* * *

With every step, the world changed. Dawn's wide, innocent eyes would have melted if she were a mere mortal. Illyria dragged her on, from one dimension to the next. 

"Where are we going?" Dawn asked. She'd resigned herself to the current situation, deciding there was nothing to do but wait for help. She ran along behind Illyria, trying to keep up.

"I require an individual." Illyria didn't stop moving, didn't turn back. She didn't care to explain things to Dawn. She didn't have the right words yet anyway. Instead she just charged ahead.

"What's that got to do with me?" Dawn asked.

"I will tell you when we get back to the bank," Illyria said.

"So we will be back there then?" Dawn felt the first bit of hope since she'd met the fallen god.

"I'm not sure," Illyria said.

So much for hope. The blur around them suddenly came into sharp relief. They were in a deep pit, possibly the deepest Dawn had ever seen. She and Illyria were standing alone atop an ocean of ice, and all around them were holes that lead down into tunnels below the surface. At the very center, six stories tall, stood the Morningstar himself, his terrible howling and flapping wings beyond words, beyond description.

Dawn felt a sudden pull on her arm, but it wasn't because of any kind of jerking. Instead it was as though Illyria had reached into her body and was pulling at her very center of being. The energy coursed and flowed along her arm and into the God-king.

A bubbling and hissing started to issue from the ice in front of them. After a few minutes a figure began to emerge from the steam. Illyria stood and looked down upon the only being that she actually gave a damn for, his body twisted and broken, encased to his crown in ice.

"Wesley," she said, stepping forward. She didn't let go of Dawn, instead using her free hand to start ripping chains and ice and other bindings from of him. The howls seemed to increase in intensity, as if the insects were finally worth notice.

"Fred?" Wesley barely opened one eye, the other swollen and bruised.

Illyria paused before answering but it was hardly noticeable. "No. It's me."

"Oh." He tried to look around. "Where are we?"

"You'd rather not know," Illyria said.

Dawn stared around, wide-eyed, trying not to completely freak out.

"I always want to know," Wesley said.

"You're in hell."

"Oh, God," he said, causing the beast in the center of the ocean to redouble his howling. "I can't go back. I can't face them again, not after…"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Illyria asked.

"I've been here for days," Wesley said. "You lied for me."

"I will do so once more," Illyria said. "You do not have a choice about returning, but I may be able to make it easier for you."

"I failed them all, so many times … just leave me here."

"No." Illyria said it flatly and without hesitation.

Dawn felt the strange pull again, and before long Illyria presented Wesley with a mask. It was made out of some kind of leather-wrapped wood. High cheekbones and a fang-filled mouth were its most noticeable features but the eyes looked like they were made of glass, strangely inanimate. It was almost possible that this was an actual ripped off face. As Illyria slipped it over Wesley's head, his body began to change.

* * *

"Stand back," Willow said. 

Everyone moved out of the center of the room. As they did so, Illyria, Dawn, and something else shimmered into being.

Illyria immediately let go of Dawn. A bright red ring surrounded Dawn's sore wrist, but no one was paying much attention to that now. Illyria fended off blows from both Spike and Angel as the creature that had returned with them stood silently watching.

It was at least seven feet tall with vestigial wings on his back that were barely a yard across. Arms the size of Wesley's thigh led to a chest the size of a beer keg. A receding line of ridged crests ran from his forehead to between the wings. In between each finger (but not the thumb) were claws that sprang out when needed. He stood glowering, but not getting involved in the fight.

Xander had his hands on Dawn's upper arms. "What happened to you? Where did she take you?"

Illyria answered instead, still easily defending herself from both vampires. "I was left without a Qua'Hazan. I went to get my first."

Dawn looked over at Illyria, but didn't say anything to contradict her.

"Why him?" Spike asked.

"It does not matter who I am," Wesley said from inside the demon. "It only matters that I am here."

Xander pushed Dawn behind him as he turned to confront Illyria. Of all the people present, he had the most reason to fear the Old One, yet he didn't show it.

"Why?" Xander demanded.

"When I first saw Dawn I immediately realized that something was going on with my powers. They were growing, as I stood there, restoring themselves."

Angel and Spike seemed ready to jump her with any wrong word, but Bethany and Gwen stood near the other girls, waiting, all of them waiting for Willow's reaction.

Illyria continued. "I realized that it was because your key was weakening the barrier between this dimension and the one you created to contain my essence. I was able to use your key," she said. "Dawn, is it? She enabled me to travel as I once did."

"Are you hurt?" Willow asked, finally noticing Dawn's wrist.

"No, I'm fine." Dawn was looking at Illyria, wondering why they didn't just say that it was Wesley. But Illyria was as unreadable as a stone.

"You ask," Angel said, poking his finger into Illyria's chest. "When you want to use other people's stuff you ask. When you want to use other _people _you damn well better ask. Them _and_ me, from now on."

"I didn't have time to decide. I wasn't sure if it was permanent or not. I saw an opportunity so I took it. You would have done no less, Champion."

"I don't care. Next time, you ask."

* * *

Some time later, most of them were in an office lounge that was furnished much like a living room. Dawn had her feet tucked up underneath her, folded tight into a recliner. Kennedy was lying on the floor playing a video game but still paying attention. Willow, Angel, and Spike sat around the coffee table, discussing options. 

"So you're pretty sure this is Wolfram & Hart's doing?" Willow asked.

"So far, anyway. It could also be what's left of the Circle." Angel had papers spread out in front of him, the last remains of the records they'd obtained from the law firm.

"It could be both," Spike said. "Maybe they're both doing this."

"Can't you sense anything?" Angel asked. "Tell us how long this going to last?"

"Look, we can't bloody well kill every demon in the city now. We're under siege. This is bad."

"We don't have much of a choice," Angel said.

"I can make it easier," Willow said. "Let's wait until tomorrow before we get utterly defeatist. I think I can bring back the sun."

"Well, that's something, at least," Spike said.

"The demons won't be as strong in the daylight, but they won't be gone either," Willow said.

"At least not yet, right?" Kennedy asked from the floor.

"Yeah," Willow said, laughing.

"Where's Xander at?" Dawn suddenly asked.

Kennedy spun around to look at her. "He went with Connor somewhere. Didn't he tell you?"

"No…" Dawn's voice trailed off into silence.

"Well he should be back soon," Kennedy said. "Bethany, Gwen, Connor, and Xander all went out to look at something."

"Ok," Dawn said, but the tone of her voice indicated that it was anything but.

"What's wrong, Dawn?" Angel asked. "Do you want to go talk now?"

"Yeah, let's." Dawn stood up and followed him into the hallway. They walked together down several doors and went into another lounge. There were several vending machines in this one; it appeared to be a break room. There were several tables with wooden chairs stacked on top. No carpeting covered the bare linoleum floor, but it was in dire need of a good buffing, with scratches and gouges all over the place.

Angel led Dawn into the room, and then turned around to face her. "Ok, what's up?"

"Well, I'm not sure how to explain this…" Dawn began.

"It's ok, just blurt it out and we'll deal with it, whatever it is."

"Well, I'm sick of Buffy and everyone else over there treating me like some kind of second class citizen."

"You don't think your sister respects you?" Angel asked.

"I know she doesn't. If it wasn't for some magically pre-programmed emotions I don't even think she'd like me."

"What are you talking about?"

"That's right, you weren't really around for any of this," Dawn said. She pulled a chair down off one of the tables and sat down in it. Angel paced back and forth in front of her.

"Around for what?"

"Well, you remember Buffy died saving me from Glory?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, Willow came and told us about it."

"Well, I was created a couple months before that. I'm only about four years old," Dawn said.

Angel didn't bother interrupting her with any more stupid questions. She laid it all out plainly for him, filling in the blanks in the story that Willow had given him. She told him how Glory had come to Sunnydale looking for a key to her home dimension, and how the monks who were hiding it gave it a human form by magically cloning the Slayer.

"So that's where the dragon came from?" Angel said rhetorically.

"I guess so," Dawn said. "We were more worried about Buffy right after it happened, I don't think anyone ever tracked it down."

"Someone did or it wouldn't be here."

"Here?" Dawn asked, shocked.

Angel dropped a few coins in the soda machine, and handed Dawn a Mountain Dew.

"Yeah. I saw it when everything went to hell," he said.

"So now you know what happened to me, and why Illyria was able to do what she did."

"Yes," Angel said. "But I still don't know what you want my help with."

"I want you to treat me like a grown-up." Dawn didn't pout, but the fact that she was close to it seemed to say something about her actual maturity.

* * *

"You may remove the mask now, if you wish," Illyria said. 

Wesley reached up and fumbled with his head. Illyria took a few steps towards him and easily pulled the face free. Wesley immediately began to shrink, losing nearly a foot of height. His arms and legs thinned down, and before long he was in his normal form. But it was agonizing, and he was covered with sweat and shaking by the time it was done.

"I feel less human when I'm wearing that thing," he said at last.

"It is to be expected. You are not meant for such power."

They were in a much smaller office. A single desk and a chair were the only furnishings. Not even a lamp decorated the sparse place, the only illumination from the overhead lights. The floor was carpeted, but with that short pile carpet that every office has. The windows were quite grand, however, built before this room's purpose was decided. The view was not, though, because the building was much taller compared to its neighbors when it was constructed.

"Thank you," Wesley said. "For not telling them."

"You owe me nothing." It was a profound statement considering the source.

"I just don't want to deal with their reactions yet. I don't know if they want me back."

"I want you back," Illyria said.

"Badly enough to go to hell for me," Wesley replied.

"The others may have questions for you. You will find the answers readily when you have the mask on. You are nearly of one mind with me, although it is more like an open connection than an overwriting one."

"You mean we're telepathic?"

"That's one way to say it. Although not so much as in thinking directly to one another, merely that you will know what I know when we are linked as such."

"How long can I wear the mask before it starts to affect me permanently?"

"You should have a couple of months at least. Long enough to relearn your magics."

"Not that I can start without my books." Wesley's gentle voice was almost back to normal.

"We will go to the law firm. Somewhere in that rubble are your things."

* * *

Six legs twitched in the air, as the half-spider, half-man finally expired. Connor stood up from the body, ichor soaked to his elbows. Xander stood to one side, Bethany was further behind him in the alley. Gwen had stayed behind to protect the car. 

"That was icky," Xander said, gingerly stepping around the fresh corpse.

"But necessary," Connor said, wiping his arms on the creature's shawl.

"Oh, I agree," Xander said. "Necessary but nasty."

Bethany picked up the other end of the shawl and helped Connor clean himself off. He flashed her a smile. They weren't far from the hotel. Connor had decided that if people tried to find Angel there, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on the place.

But after the dragon had sighted Gwen and Bethany last time, the demons were apparently of the same mind. The streets surrounding the old hotel were literally crawling with horrible things better left in the dark corners of a twisted imagination. Connor was adamant that they make it all the way to the hotel, and check inside. He'd been willing to leave the others behind if necessary.

"Help!" someone screamed. The three of them looked at each other.

"It came from up there," Connor said, pointing to a window on the third floor of a building nearby.

Connor grabbed Bethany's hand and pulled her along. Xander kept up as best he could, holding a flashlight in one hand and an MP5 from the Gunn-men in the other. They hurdled debris and rubble, quickly making their way to the wall beneath the window.

"Would you do the honors?" Connor asked Bethany.

"Certainly," she said. Connor started to rise up in the air. The woman in the window watched, relieved, as the first humans she'd seen in days rose up to greet her like Superman.

"Oh thank god," she said, climbing out of the window and into Connor's arms. "This building is crawling with those things."

"Cordelia?" he asked, nearly dropping her.

"Yes, but there's too much to explain now, and I don't want to go over it again."

Connor leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Bethany lowered the pair to the ground. Xander ran up and hugged Cordy, tears of joy streaking the dirt on his face. "I thought you were dead," he said.

"So did I," she said. "But I'll explain everything when we get back to the hotel."

"We're not going to the hotel," Connor said.

"We have a car," Xander said. "This way."

* * *

Buffy and Giles were in his flat in London with the other Slayers. They were all involved in various activities, and Buffy was on the phone. 

"We're getting our asses kicked, B."

Buffy grimaced, before realized that Faith couldn't see it over the line. "What's going on?" she asked.

"There's this vamp bastard coming out of, I don't know, somewhere east. He's got us pushed back against the walls, but it seems like he's still just toying with us."

"You got help on the way," Buffy said, twirling the line around her finger.

"Really?" Faith asked. "Who?"

"Xander should be there soon," Buffy said. "And Willow and Kennedy should be along after that. Unless they meet up somewhere and come together."

"That kicks so much fucking ass," Faith said. "Look, I gotta jet. You ok, sis?"

Buffy frowned, glad this time that her expressions didn't travel. "Yeah, we're all good here. The Immortal chased us, but we're hiding now. We should be back in the States in a few days."

"Ok," Faith said. "Later."

Buffy hung up the phone and looked over at Giles and Andrew, who had their heads pressed together over a folder full of papers.

"What are you two so into?" Buffy asked.

"We're trying to figure out who I'm going to train," Andrew said.

"Why don't you just ask the girls which one is willing to put up with you?" Buffy grinned.

"Very funny," Giles said. He handed another paper to Andrew.

"What exactly are you qualified to teach?" Buffy asked, not at all sarcastically.

"Vampires, basic ritual magic," Andrew ticked items off on his fingers as he recounted. "Some combat, at least theory."

"Compared to what the girls know now," Giles said, "it would be an improvement."

"I'm teaching them." Buffy didn't glare, but it took restraint.

"You can't give each one the personal attention they require."

"And Andrew can?" Buffy looked him over like a piece of meat, and he was obviously not measuring up.

"No. But he can take one. And I can take one. And there are others coming." Giles raised his hand to Buffy, palm outward. "This is no insult to you Buffy, or your skills as a Slayer. All we are doing is getting things back to the way they used to be."

"It's about time, I guess," Buffy said.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

I've combined both Buffyverse shows into a single series that should be rated MATURE for some dialogue, sexual themes (non-graphic), and violence. I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. Only aired episodes are considered canon.

* * *

Xander's compact may have been small, but it had withstood the wet and the wrecks with aplomb. Cordy was in the front, beside Xander, and Connor was in the back again, wedged between Gwen and Bethany. She again had her thigh pressed up against Connor. She was so bold as to grab Connor's hand, gently holding it against his leg, as they bounced along together. 

"I really want to get back and see Angel," Cordelia said. "I'll tell you everything after I talk to him."

"But you are ok?" Xander asked.

"Yes." Cordy was even able to flash her brilliant smile. "Everything's fine now."

Connor was able to see her face in the rear-view mirror, still not believing it was really her. They'd found her body, dead and buried, and tried to come to terms with the loss. Connor had lost a wife and a friend, and as the first woman he'd trusted in this new world, it was a pretty terrible loss.

Bethany turned her head to breathe on Connor's neck. He turned to face her, and she planted a kiss on him.

"Hey!" Cordelia turned around in her seat. "You know our policy, Bethany."

She laughed, and slowly extricated herself from Connor, at least as best she could in the small space the back seat provided. Gwen passed a troubled glance between the two, unsure of what just happened.

"How long until we're back at the bank?" she asked.

"It won't be long now," Xander said. "Just a few more minutes."

"Good," Gwen said. "I have to pee."

Connor furrowed his brow slightly. He couldn't make heads or tails of Bethany. She was beautiful, smart, and powerful. But there was something off about her. Apparently Cordy knew what it was.

"After we drop you guys off at the bank, I'm going back to the hotel." Connor wasn't sure if anyone cared, but he was still determined to make sure that no one was left there, hiding and terrified, while the Fang Gang lived it up at the new digs.

"Do you want anyone to come with you?" Bethany asked.

"Sure, that's ok."

* * *

At the sight of Cordelia, everything seemed to slow down for Angel. He couldn't cross the lobby fast enough to get to her. She fell into his arms. 

"I'm real this time," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"What?" Angel didn't know why she was here, and he didn't care. He was just glad to finally feel her again.

"Let me explain this to everyone," she said. "Then we need to talk."

"Ok," Angel said. "Go ahead."

Connor took Bethany's hand and headed to the exit. "I'm glad your back," he said. "But we've got to make it all the way to the hotel."

"That's not a problem," Cordelia said, a little relieved that the creepy little kid was leaving. "Anyone else need to be elsewhere?"

Gwen and Sin Jinn stood up at the same time, he to prepare for Illyria's imminent arrival and she to go find something a bit more entertaining to get into.

Dawn leaned forward and took Cordy's hand for a second, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Xander sat down beside Dawn on the couch, who herself was sitting quietly next to Willow and Kennedy.

"Ez tou long to 'splain," Xander said in a strange accent. "Leet me jez som op."

Every kinda started at him for a moment, missing the reference.

"Ok," Cordy finally said. "I need to cover some things that some of you may know already. And some of it I was only just told about myself."

She began with the night that she disappeared. It turned out that the vision she saw in the dining room of her old apartment was something that was sent by one of Wolfram & Hart's psychics. Skip intercepted her on the way to meet Angel, making sure that no help would arrive to stop Connor from giving Angel a lesson in fatherhood.

Cordelia was never meant to be a Higher Power. And she didn't go to Heaven. She went to a prison cell, where she was in a demon's body. The demon got her body, which never went higher than a few feet into the air before swooshing back to the ground. When the others found out that the possessed Cordelia didn't have her memories, they performed a spell to retrieve them, which allowed Cordelia to learn more about the demon _she _had been possessing.

When Angel had confronted Skip, the demon had told just enough of the truth to keep Angel stalling. But he didn't mention anything about the prison swap. The hell that came after that, the Beast and blotting out the sun, all of that was the demon rebirthing itself and carrying out its part in this apocalypse. When Cordy's body had died, she'd finally been freed from the prison and returned to the powers that be.

Hours went by as Cordelia continued her tale. The Powers wanted to give Angel a chance to reaffirm his commitment and so she was sent, as a spirit, to give him a single vision. That conversation was the spark that ignited this war. But it was a war that was necessary, a war that was long overdue. Evil had been waging it for centuries, it was about time that the white pieces started taking their places upon the board.

Cordy had been able to see everything that was going on, but nothing that happened before or in the future. She knew that Angel had summoned the full force of the combined armies of the evil in Los Angeles. But she didn't know exactly where he was now. The Powers wanted him to have a more constant link to them, so they gave Cordelia a new body and she woke up somewhere near the hotel.

She'd been unable to make it inside because of the many enemies waiting around outside, but as luck would have it, Connor and Xander happened by and she was able to return with them.

Illyria returned to open the portal again as Cordy finished up her tale. Although there was an awkward moment as Dawn looked frightfully towards Illyria, nothing happened between the two this time. Illyria opened the portal easily and several people headed inside with giant bottles of water and some food, with garbage coming out as a trade.

* * *

"Excuse me," Gwen said, knocking on the opened door to the office that Illyria and Wesley's altered form were in. "I was wondering if I could talk to you." 

"What could you possibly want with me?" Wesley asked from behind the mask. His voice sounded like sandpaper and malice.

"I don't actually," Gwen said. "I was hoping to talk to your goddess if I could."

"You wish to speak with me?" Illyria asked. "You may."

"It's… kinda private," Gwen admitted. "I want to know if you saw what happened to Gunn."

"Gunn is dead."

"Yeah," Gwen said. "I know. But I was wondering if you could tell me how, exactly. I asked Spike about it, but he said I should talk to you."

"The blonde one is quite bold," Illyria said, offering a smile to Gwen. "But I will concede that I am the proper one to explain what happened, as I was there for it. As for Nikodemus, I have no secrets from my Qua'Hazan. Either you tell us both now or I tell him what happened later."

"See, I really just came here to see Gunn. He was good to me. I was hoping he'd be ok and find some way through this." Gwen frowned. "Since he's not around, I'm sorta wondering where I fit into all of this now."

"Gunn died saving his friends. He was wounded dealing with the Senator and her vampire minions. When he returned, he held off some of the creatures long enough for Angel and Spike to make their escape."

"Did he..." Gwen couldn't quite finish. "Did he suffer?"

"He was cut from hip to nipple. It must have been…"

Wesley cut her off before Illyria got Gwen crying and she short-circuited. "I'm sure in the heat of battle that it was not too much."

"You were not there," Illyria said. "You did not see."

"But I have been killed," Wesley said. "And I know what that feels like. And it's not especially painful."

"I watched your death," Illyria said. "You were also in agony."

"But it's not the agony you remember. It's what you were doing, who you were doing it with. That's what matters."

"Thank you," Gwen said, dabbing at her eyes and offering Wesley a weak smile and turning to go.

"You're welcome." His voice wasn't quite his own, but the empathy that he'd always been so good at still flowed through it. After Gwen left, Wesley turned on Illyria.

"Nikodemus?" he asked. "That's my name now?"

"Is there something else you prefer?" Illyria responded.

"We don't have time now," Wesley said. "We must start getting ready to return to the law firm."

"We will do that tomorrow," Illyria said. "Your witch plans on restoring the sun and everything will be much weaker after that. Plus by then Connor will be back and we can have him come with us. I find myself encouraged by his presence at my side."

"Fair enough," Wesley said. "What now then?"

"Tell me a story," Illyria said. "This is why I wanted you back. Continue to teach me what I do not yet know about this world. I am powerless in my current form, but I refuse to let Death claim me."

"Ok, this might be something you're interested in then. I will tell you the story of the Key who got to be a little girl…"

* * *

Bethany had taken Connor's hand as soon as they reached the roof. If it were impossible to make it to the hotel on the ground then they'd just have to go by air. The dragon hadn't been sighted in almost a full day. As they soared, Connor yelled to be heard over the wind. "So what's the deal between you and Cordelia?" 

Bethany laughed, blushing a bit. "She told me not to sleep with her boss."

"Do you have a habit of sleeping with people?" Connor asked, jokingly.

"If I like them," Bethany replied with a straight face.

It was Connor's turn to blush. The physical contact between their sweaty hands was enough to send his hormones raging. He was certain that she would notice. "We should be there soon," he said to change the subject.

"This is a lot faster. I know the door to the roof was open, we should be able to get inside and have a good look around."

"Good thing, that."

They touched down on the Hyperion's roof with a splash. While hints of the moon could be seen in the clouds, the raging storm continued unabated. It seemed like whatever was causing this weather was pretty determined.

They made their way down into the hotel without incident. The doors downstairs had been smashed, and overall the place was in much worse shape than it had been just a couple of days ago, but it was still holding up rather well to being abandoned and attacked by a dragon.

They walked down the hallway and one of the rooms smelled exactly like Bethany to Connor. It must be the one that she had been staying in, in order to build up such a strong residual odor. Not that it was bad or in any way overpowering. Just to a creature like Connor, who literally lived or died by his sense of smell, it was quite distinctive.

"Are any of your things left?" Connor asked. He was sure that this much scent couldn't come from just a mattress.

"Yeah, I have a few changes of clothes left in there," she said.

"Ok. I'll have room in my backpack as soon as I stick this food in the fridge." He'd been afraid that anyone getting stuck here would end up stuck here for quite some time. He planned to leave a map with directions to the bank drawn on the floor as well as several days worth of provisions, hopefully enough for several groups, if they ever showed up, to have a day or two apiece.

It was far from foolproof, and Connor was to check back at least a few more times before he utterly gave up on the place, but for now it was the best he could manage. Securing the area around the bank was much more important than keeping a constant corridor open for several blocks to an empty building.

By the time he went back upstairs, Bethany had all of her clothes sorted and piled. She stood near it, her hair just beginning to dry and feathering ever so gently off her scalp. Connor offered her the backpack but when she took hold of the strap he didn't let go. After a second, she reached up to take Connor's hand instead. That touch was all it took, and both of them unleashed a passion that only several near death experiences and a haunted hotel could summon.

Within mere seconds she was pressed back against the bed, Connor's hand reaching up below her sundress. Her toes curled in her sandals as she dropped back and let out a low moan.

"Are you sure no one is here?" she asked Connor, suddenly opening her eyes at a noise.

"I looked everywhere," he said. "And I didn't hear a thing besides the wind."

"Good," she said, kissing him. She opened her mouth to let his tongue explore a little bit before pulling away. "Promise me you won't get all clingy?" she said.

"I can do that," Connor managed to say with a straight face.

* * *

"Listen," Cordy said, as soon as the door closed behind them. "I saw what that thing said to you, I know what you went through." 

"Yeah, it was kinda rough." Angel looked her over, from her strappy sandals to her flowing white gown. Her hair, still long and luxurious, was twisted up into a wreath around her head, almost like a halo.

"I love you," she said bluntly.

"You do?" Angel asked.

"The last time I was here, really here, I was coming to tell you that."

"That's when you got picked up by Skip?"

"Yes."

"But then?"

"Then my body was taken, and it was just my mind left in that prison. And then Lorne started trying to figure out ways to even give that to the demon. And when I came to give you that message, I was under strict orders. Of course I decided to bend them a little bit." She grinned.

"I'm so sorry," Angel said, hugging her. "But I've been sorta seeing someone now."

"Well I didn't expect to pick up exactly where we left off, but I was hoping that you at least still sometimes thought of me."

"I did," Angel said. "I do. But that thing did a lot of damage with your face. And besides that, it's been a long time."

"You're telling me. I was sooooo frickin' bored up there." Cordelia flashed her familiar smile and flopped down across a lounge chair. "So what about it?"

"What about what?"

"What about us?"

"I don't know," Angel said.

"You don't love me?" She said it as flatly as she could, making it a question about the weather or some other trivial matter. She was afraid if she revealed too much, it would seem like she was pressuring him.

"I do," Angel said. "I love you, Cordy. I just don't know if that's enough."

"That's a start," she said. "I can live with that."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I've combined both Buffy and Angel into a single series that is rated **MATURE** for some dialogue, sexual themes (non-graphic), and violence. I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. Only aired episodes are considered canon.

_**A brief word about accents:**_Rather than murder the English language with a sullied assortment of hyphens and apostrophes, I write most character's dialogue in plain English but with my best attempt at the proper word choice to match that character's way of speaking. For example, instead of saying "Blud'e 'ell wot'dchja do that four?" I'd just spell it correctly and let you assume that Spike has a Cockney (or Northern Whatsford) accent.

If there's something you dislike, I'm eager for criticism. As always, thanks for taking the time to read.

jayman

* * *

Connor was buttoning his shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed. Bethany's room reeked of them now, and Connor had found out the real power of touch by making love to a telekinetic woman. For her part, Bethany still lay under the covers smoking a cigarette, with an ashtray resting between her breasts. 

"Do you regret doing this?" Connor asked.

"I don't care," Bethany said. "Besides, I thought I told you none of this stuff."

"I'm sorry." Connor pulled on his boots and stood up. "Get dressed. I'll be back in an hour so we can go home."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To see if anyone else is nearby." Connor went to the door. "There's food downstairs if you need it."

"Do you just want me to head home?" Bethany bit her lower lip.

"If you think you can make it, I'm just gonna take a walk."

Connor shut the door behind him, stopping a moment to rub his eyes. "That was a terrible idea," he said to himself. "Why do I always fall for older crazy women?"

He went to the landing overlooking the lobby and casually hopped over the railing. He couldn't help thinking about the last time he'd done that, flanked on Jasmine's opposite side by Angel as they set out to kill Fred, for the unforgivable crime of free thought. The only difference was that Angel didn't know what Jasmine was, while Connor saw it the entire time.

He landed with a thud in the lobby below and stopped for a moment, listening. He heard Bethany moving around upstairs but other than that the Hyperion was empty. Connor pulled a thick knife out of one of his boots and started outside.

"Wait," Bethany said from the stairs above him. "I'm coming with you."

"What, are you trying to prove something?" Connor asked.

"Maybe," Bethany said, coming down the steps at a brisk walk. "What difference does it make?"

"You can't come in those clothes. We'll find a store and get you outfitted properly."

"It won't matter if Willow brings back the sun," she said.

As they talked, they made their way out the door. The awning that had been ripped off the other night sat in the sodden grass nearby, puddles and rust collecting from the constant onslaught of the elements. Connor seemed utterly unfazed by the rain, but Bethany used her powers to form a telekinetic bubble around them both, keeping them dry.

"That's a little better," Bethany said.

"Yeah, thanks." Connor crouched down and touched two fingers to the muck. "I don't think there's any people around, not that their scent would stay long in this wet."

"What do you want to do then?" she asked.

"Mostly I was planning to avoid trouble on the way home," Connor said. "Just to make sure no one else was out here. I want to stop at the Army surplus store to see if we can find any boots in your size."

"Ok," Bethany said.

The sound of voices must have summoned them, fading from the darkness, several vampires intent on blood. It was getting harder to find a fresh kill with so many people having fled and the demons killing the rest.

"Where are you two going on this fine evening?" the leader of the gang asked. The rest of his band chuckled, obviously enjoying his display of dominance. They shouted and marked out a large circle around the victims.

"I'm in a good mood," Connor said. "So I'll tell ya what. You pretend like you never saw us. And I'll let you go until next time."

"There's like six of them," Bethany said, worry in her voice, as more and more stepped out of the shadows.

"That's nothing," Connor said.

"Yeah," the leader said. "We're nothing for a pair like you." He took a step forward and unleashed mighty swings at Connor, who not only stepped out of the way but pulled Bethany clear as well.

"I'm warning you, man." Connor said.

The giant vampire took another swing and Connor grabbed his arm to duck underneath it, coming up behind to put him in a half nelson. Bethany looked around for something, anything that she could use as a weapon. She finally decided to rip some shards off a light pole.

While Connor fought with their leader, Bethany dusted four of the remaining vampires. Utterly befuddled, they looked around for a moment. Seeing that their leader wasn't doing too well they ran away.

Connor dove and rolled, picking up one of the stakes Bethany had made. The goliath turned around and, while his new girlfriend watched, Connor jabbed the stake straight through the ribcage and into the heart.

"Told ya," he said, as the dust screamed. He bent down to retrieve his knife, nearly lost in the water.

* * *

Willow held a strange herb up to her nose and gave it a sniff. "Nearly unusable," she said. She tossed it aside and picked up another one. They were in the office that'd been assigned as their bedroom, because it had a couch that they could take turns sleeping on, or if they took opposite ends and snuggled in tight, they could just barely manage a nap together. 

Willow was going through everything she had, comparing her inventory to the notes she'd cribbed for the spell.

"What happens if we can't get enough of this stuff?" Kennedy asked.

"We'll still be able to cast the spell," Willow said. "But I might need to tap you and Dawn, or someone, in order to make it effective."

"I don't mind but it always feels like I got hit by a truck." Kennedy couldn't help frowning thinking about the last time it'd happened. The results had been good, very good, but there were personal repercussions that had to be considered.

"It wasn't easy to wake up every Potential in the world, you know."

"What do you think that really means?"

"Well, I imagine it will go back to normal," Willow said.

"How can that happen? There aren't any potentials left."

"Yeah but they'll be born, I think. Since Buffy already called a couple, Faith will be next."

"So we have to keep Faith alive long enough for a new potential to be born," Kennedy said.

"Now you know why Buffy and Giles want us to go there so bad," Willow said. "No matter what, we have to get this done tomorrow, because L.A. can't stay dark forever." She went back to sniffing herbs, while Kennedy went back to her game.

* * *

"Again," Illyria demanded, watching Spike pick himself up off the floor. "You asked for this, half-breed. Now, as usual, you are unwilling to see it through to the end." 

"Just give me a minute," Spike said, holding up his hand. His ragged breathing came in spurts and gasps. After the drama and intensity stirred up by the monk's spell, Spike was glad to get a chance to blow off some steam. But in the aftermath of the threat to Dawn, he felt nothing but relief and satisfaction that Illyria had never meant to harm her. And now, with no malice, he was doing his best to kill her.

Four solid hours of getting pounded by Illyria was more than enough for most people. Spike was just getting warmed up. She had a couple of scrapes and bruises as he figured out more and more effective ways to deal with her ancient techniques. If there was one thing Spike was good at, it was getting inside someone's head.

Illyria stood beside Spike, but she wasn't even sweating. He may land the occasional lucky blow, but his body just didn't have the endurance of her shell.

"You are the only one who isn't treating me differently," Illyria said, tilting her head to try to look into his eyes.

"Because I understand what you did." Spike put his palms flat on his knees and leaned over a bit. "And frankly, Angel would have did it himself if he'd been in your position. Besides, it's not like you hurt the little bit."

"They seem quite concerned about that mark on her wrist."

"Maybe they should be. Then again, maybe it's just a mark." Spike coughed and stood up. "Either way we'll know in a few days. Ready then?"

"Nikodemus thinks that being around Dawn may allow me to safely access some of my powers."

"What?" Spike asked. "How's that work?"

"She weakens the barrier. Nikodemus says if we practice, I may be able to pick and choose. I would be able to hear the green chorus again."

"Who is this bloke, anyway?" Spike asked. He still didn't know it was Wesley, but he knew something wasn't right.

"He was my first Qua'Hazan, the only one who mattered." To Illyria, deceit was as natural as breathing.

"So," Spike said. "You weren't all powerful in your old life? I mean, why didn't you go get him before, if Dawn just let you do something that you already could? And how could his ancient knowledge be in any way relevant to what's going on now?"

"Are you ready to fight or will you just ask questions until I die from it?"

"I'll fight," Wesley said from the doorway.

"Oh," Spike said, turning. "If it's not jolly old St. Nik."

"I'm no saint," Wesley replied, his twisted vocal chords making the most innocent of statements sound like a thinly veiled threat. "We've all done bad things."

"Want to have a go?" Spike asked, immediately shifting his weight up on the balls of his feet.

"I'd love to," Wesley said, enjoying this. "I have to warn you that I haven't actually been in this body in quite some time. I may not know my own strength."

Spike backed up into the center of the ring, making a grand motion of invitation with his outspread arms. "I'm not afraid of you, monochrome."

Wesley threw a slow, lumbering haymaker. Spike easily crossed his arms in front of his face but it didn't do him any good. The strength unleashed by the mask was truly unholy, and he found himself imbedded nearly a foot into the wall.

"Bloody hell," Spike said as he tried to climb out. He made a mental note to dodge instead of block. "You want to play rough, do you?" His face transformed as he leapt back into the fray.

* * *

It caused her no pain, but the visions still carried with them all the feelings, the smells, and the reality of the person she was seeing. Cordelia flinched a little bit, reassuring herself that this was happening to someone else, and that it was something she could fix. 

She wasn't sure who she was seeing until the girl, who had been lying on her back, propped herself up on one elbow and saw a puddle. Cordelia could realize from the reflection that it was Faith.

Her face was bloody from a large gash that started on her forehead before jumping across her unscathed eye to continue several inches down her cheek. The weapon that caused it was very slender but the scar would be very deep.

Standing above Faith, in Cordelia's vision, was a young girl with the perfectly frozen agelessness that only being a vampire could offer… an ancient vampire. A church rose up before her, and Cordelia suddenly realized what happened.

The voice that issued from the vampire had a strange echo to it in the visions, as though there were a male voice saying the words with her or speaking for her.

"You are only delaying the inevitable. Your friends will not come in time," she said.

Faith was attacked and had fallen back on holy ground to escape. If there were other girls with her, their fate was unknown. That was all Cordelia saw.

She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to pound on another door. "Angel," Cordy yelled, her fist turning pink from repeatedly slamming off the heavy wood. "Angel, I had a vision. It's Faith, she's in trouble."

Several doors along the hallway opened in a somewhat comedic moment. Everyone appeared with sleep-tousled hair. The door in front of Cordelia opened last and Angel finally stuck his head out.

"What's happened?" Angel asked, falling naturally back into the rhythm that being with her used to have. Visions, action, fade to black.

"Faith, she's in a lot of trouble." Cordelia frowned, destroying the exquisiteness of her face.

"How long?" Angel asked.

"I think it was happening right now," Cordelia said. "Which means there's like no time. Faith was stuck in a church, with some really, really old bitch waiting just outside."

"Ok," Angel said, giving her a quick hug.

She lingered for a moment, luxuriating in the scent of him, before finally stepping back. "We don't have time, the spell has to happen now."

Willow ducked back into her room to get her materials.

Xander started heading down to the lobby, clearing out the Gunn-men along the way in case something went wrong. Dawn sort of mindlessly trailed along behind him.

As she walked by, Angel grabbed her arm. "Dawn."

"What?" she asked. She didn't look up at his face, just watched Xander walk away.

"Stay up here." Angel turned her around back towards her room.

"Why does that matter to you?" she asked, outrage furrowing her brow.

"You said you wanted to be different. Stay up here until you figure out what _you_ want to do." Angel closed the door, and Cordelia and Dawn were left staring after him.

"I guess he's getting dressed?" Cordy offered.

"Yeah," Dawn said, heading down the hall to her room. "I guess."

* * *

Spike threw a devastating right, spinning around to follow with backhanded jab. Wesley staggered somewhat, knocked back onto his heels. Fighting with Spike was very much a game of balance. Lose it, and you lost it all. 

Spike realized he had him and didn't let up, one punch following another. Wesley fell to one knee, and Spike raised both hands to deliver a chop across his back and a kick to his chest.

Wesley grabbed Spike's foot and stood back up, hoisting him upside-down as he did so. He easily held the vampire's few hundred pounds aloft. Spike struggled and spun, trying to pull Wesley's knee out from under him. Finally annoyed by his efforts, Wesley tossed Spike to land flat on his back across the ring.

Wesley charged forward and stomped where Spike had landed, cracking the floor and sending a cloud of dust into the air. Spike was already on his feet, kicking and continuing to attack Wesley's right knee.

"Enough," Illyria said. "This room can not contain such a fight."

Spike offered his right hand, which Wesley accepted and shook.

"Good fight," Wesley said. "You're pretty strong."

"You too," Spike said, wiping his lip. "Now, I've got to go get a bite."

Spike left as Wesley walked over to Illyria.

"Can I take this thing off yet?" he asked.

Illyria shook her head, but made no reply, still watching the door. Wesley took the hint, and dropped the idea for now. Spike had been leaning up against the doorframe to see if any secrets passed between them, but after a moment he went on his way.

* * *

Bethany stood ready to catch the skylight and put it back together. Willow had a cauldron centered beneath it, flames lapping at the sides and easily boiling the gallons of liquid within. Gwen stood on the far side, her power most capable of traveling any distance. 

Willow chanted in a voice that no one could understand. Kennedy stood behind and to the right of her, waiting in case a power transfer should be necessary. Dawn had apparently decided not to come down.

Before long Angel and Cordelia appeared on the stairs, sheepishly smiling as they took their places behind Willow. Connor stormed in and took the spot opposite Kennedy, utterly ignoring Cordy. Willow realized it was time and threw her hands into the air.

Brilliant white light streaked from the cauldron into the clouds. For several moments there was a battle of wills, as the stormcaller and Willow each sought supremacy of the sky. But whoever it was, no matter really, they weren't prepared to go up against this witch and her allies.

Power spilled out of Willow and up to the sky. It crackled out of Gwen's eyes, drunken looking and bleached. She arced electricity over the cauldron, where it was picked up by the beam and channeled skyward. Connor and Kennedy each staggered under the drain Willow exerted.

Within the hour, the storm was no more. A quiet evening settled in outside, moonlight illuminating the damage in a way that no remnant streetlights ever could. Eventually soggy crickets picked up their rhythm.

People broke off to go do their respective things.

"Ok," Willow said. "Where's Xander? We need to go."

* * *

When the others went downstairs to see Willow cast, Xander headed back up to Dawn's room. He gently knocked on the door, waiting several minutes for a response before he decided to just head in. 

She was on the bed with her headphones on, nodding in time to the music. Xander didn't know if he should wait for her to notice or startle her with a surprise tap. He decided to head back into the hall, but as he was leaving, Dawn caught him.

"Hey," she said.

"Are you going to be ok?" he asked.

"I think so," Dawn said. " It's kinda weird having Cordelia back, after what she… well, I guess it wasn't her, but whatever. I heard a lot of stuff happened."

Xander sat down on the bed beside her. "I'm going to have to leave tonight, you know."

"I know," Dawn said, sniffling a bit.

"You're still welcome to come with me," Xander said. "But I think you'd be better here."

"I am going to be ok here," Dawn said. She already liked the way Angel was engaging her already, even if he was distracted.

There was a knock on the door, and Kennedy stuck her head in. "It's time."


	4. Chapter 4

Willow, Xander, and Kennedy popped in to the middle of absolute chaos. The first thing they saw was someone on fire charging through an open door. That door led out into the night and several people were trying to push the fireball outside without getting caught up in it themselves.

Through the door they saw Faith standing vigil, trying to trip occasional demons running onto holy ground as suicide bombs. Outside the gate, pacing back and forth was a beautiful young girl radiating cruelty.

"What the fuck is going on?" Xander asked, trying to shield Kennedy from the flames as best he could.

Kennedy rolled her eyes and laughed before easily moving Xander out of the way. "Who's in charge here?" she yelled.

"Faith was," one of the other new Slayers said. "But she's busy."

"Jul, what's going on?" Kennedy asked.

"Hi, Wood," Willow said, noticing him laboring nearby.

"Help me get this pew across the door," he replied.

Xander ran over to grab the other end. "What's going on?" he asked.

"At dusk, Allison and Maxine left on patrol. The came to the graveyard and Colleen attacked. She killed Max and trapped Ally." Wood hefted the awkward pew across the doorway, creating a temporary but flammable barrier to prevent incursions for the moment. "Faith brought us as backup and now we're trapped, too."

"Who's that?" Willow asked, pointing to the vampire across the yard. Maxine's body, drained of blood, lay broken atop the gothic wrought iron fence that separated their church from the rest of the cemetery.

"That's Colleen, she's the one we've been having so much trouble with around here."

"Ok." Xander said. "Just so we're clear… that girl drank a Slayer and now she's holding all of us hostage, and her cronies keep running in to try to burn us up?"

"Yeah," Julia said. "When Colleen doesn't throw them over the fence for better penetration."

"They're probably already looking for gasoline or something else, too," Ally said. Her eyes had gone white, it was clear she was in shock.

"Don't bother trying to predict her attacks," Wood said. "She's very dangerous. We have to get out of here … now."

"Ok," Willow said. "Let me see what I can do." She started going through her inventory again.

Colleen continued to call threats towards Faith and the others. "You're only delaying the inevitable."

"We only have to wait a few more hours," Faith retorted, her face a horror show of blood from the cut Colleen had delivered. "Then you won't be so brave."

"You smell so sweet," Colleen said, "I don't think I can wait." She grabbed another of her soldiers and tossed him casually over the fence. Faith ran and fielded the demon like she was playing tennis, trying to get close enough to trip him without getting so close that he could throw his arms around her. Her clothing already had several scorch marks and burn holes from ones that had nearly gotten her.

"She got him," Julia cheered, pumping her fist in the air.

"I should go help her," Xander said.

"You'll get killed out there," Willow said, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.

"That's what I'm here for," Xander said ironically, touching her hand for a moment before he hopped over the pew and took up a position near Faith.

* * *

A stunning morning dawned over Los Angeles, or at least what was left of it. The media was reporting it as the Big One, an earthquake so powerful that it knocked out communications for three days. The death toll was unknown; none of the reports said a word about the mutilated appearance of the corpses that littered the streets. 

Connor looked out the window of his room, watching sunlight transform the world. Windows were shattered in some skyscrapers while other buildings had been reduced entirely to rubble. But even though the sun was shining, most of the demons weren't directly harmed by it. The Battle of Los Angeles was far from over.

He looked over his shoulder to check on Bethany, still sleeping in a chair nearby. She'd be ok here if he went out for a little while. The couch creaked ever so gently as he sat down to lace up his boots, but that was all it took for her to open her eyes.

"Are you leaving?" she asked.

"I want to go look around," he said. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Would you mind?"

"I guess not." Connor stood up and waited by the door. Bethany was dressed; she only had to lace up her own boots to be ready to join him. The heavy-duty steel-toe boots looked out of place with her breezy sundress, but she didn't care about the incongruity of the fashion statement, she just wanted to be practical.

In another room along the hallway, Angel was busy trying to climb into the closet. The growing daylight was a growing threat to his hide, as his smoldering hand would attest. He had nearly forgotten after a year of being spoiled by Wolfram & Hart's necro-tempered glass.

As he shut the door to the closet, he realized that the room next to his was where Cordelia had decided to sleep. As he stood there silently, he could hear her steady breathing. He splayed his hand against the wood that separated them, wondering if anything she had said was true.

Cordelia slept, and dreamt of Willow summoning sunlight from her hand. The sheets were rumpled over her after a night spent thrashing around from one nightmare after another. She was grateful for the reprieve of this dream so soon before waking. Something like that could change a person's entire day.

Either more people were in trouble these days or the Powers had decided that she could handle their more frequent interference. An entire city was slowly falling into the Dark Ages and there was almost nothing she could do about it.

Or was there? Skip had told her that she had used her powers wisely. She hadn't used her demonic powers at all, at least not consciously. A mild glow, some floating. That one thing with Connor. What was she actually capable of?

The next room was where Willow and Kennedy had slept during their brief stay in L.A. Most of the rooms were empty now, except for Dawn who was in the middle of her first true night of restful sleep ever. Illyria hadn't come to talk to her yet, but she knew deep down that they shared a connection unique among artificial constructs.

Illyria didn't need sleep. She was deep in the bowels of the bank with a map and the notes everyone had been taking and turning in about enemy movements. Connor went out every day to gather priceless information, and the Gunn-men had a pretty sharp eye as well. Now that the electromagnetic interference of the storm was over, they should be able to go back to using cell phones soon.

Wesley stood by the table, offering an opinion about the maps occasionally but mostly focusing on a book in his hand. Because of the connection between them, they were each effectively learning two things.

"I'm glad you are back," Illyria said. "I don't know if I have told you, but it seemed important."

"It is important." Wesley folded the book closed and looked over at her. "It's good to tell the people you care about how you feel."

"But you care nothing for me."

"That's not true," Wesley tried to frown, but flaps and fangs hid most of it.

"You loved Fred," Illyria stated it as a matter of fact, but she was pouting in her way.

"I can't say that I didn't. But she's gone now."

"I can bring her back."

"You know how I feel about that."

"You are willing to lie for your friends, but not for me?"

"This is getting a little weird, isn't it?" Wesley asked.

Spike saved him, entering the basement as he paced around sleepless. "What are you two up to?" he asked.

"Looking over the tactical situation to decide the best targets." Wesley wasn't able to display any real emotion besides displeasure with his current features.

"Need any help?"

* * *

Buffy felt useless. She had warriors who had turned back the armies of Hell itself but she couldn't manage to outmaneuver the Immortal. He wasn't really pressuring them now, but he had made it pretty clear that their grace period was about to end. Their only option was to flee or fight. 

For now they were still staying in Giles' home, where Willow had come for advanced training. The inside was just as beautiful as the sculpted grounds that surrounded it. They were in a room that had a stairway up and across the space halfway to the ceiling. The northern wall was nothing but windows for two stories. All in all, it was very comfortable.

"I still don't see why we can't set up the Council in America," Andrew said.

"Because America isn't the center of the universe," Vi said. "And how long until the Immortal decides that we have to leave there?"

"He seemed pretty clear," Rona said. "Europe is his, has always been his, and will continue to be his. I don't think we'd have much to worry about in the US."

"But none of that matters because the people and resources available to rebuild the Watchers are here," Giles said. "The agents and their followers are all just waiting for the restoration."

"So again, why can't we make it in America?" Andrew asked.

"Alright," Buffy said. "This is getting us nowhere. What we have to do is figure out what the Immortal is planning."

"There's no way," Vi said. "I can't even tell what you're going to say next. He's been here for a long time and we don't know how many or what type of weapons he's going to use."

"I'm not leaving," Buffy said. "You shouldn't want to either. If we leave he's just going to stab us in the back. And what was that business he tried with Dawn?"

"Buffy has a point," Giles said. "We have to figure out where he intends to strike."

"Good luck with that," Vi said.

"Well at least if we wait here, sooner or later he'll expose himself," Rona said. "Then we might be able to start picking up clues."

* * *

Xander had actually been a big help, catching several that got by Faith before they made it to the increasingly damaged church. Faith stood near him now, waiting for Colleen's next serve. 

But the next one was the one they'd been waiting for. He had a can of gasoline in his hands, and he was pouring it over anything nearby as he was engulfed in flames. The explosion blew Xander back; he landed and rolled to put himself out.

The light should have receded, but it didn't. It was actually getting brighter. It took a minute before Xander realized that Willow had come out of the church, holding her glowing fist aloft like a beacon.

She did her best Vin Diesel and said, "Try to keep up with the light."

Ally and Julia helped Faith, who was utterly exhausted and could barely keep her feet now that the crisis was over. Wood and Kennedy followed behind. Xander fell in beside Willow.

"You know they've got more gas, right?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet," she said, giving him a sheepish smile.

For a moment they stood in the center of the courtyard. Colleen realized that sunlight was just as good as holy ground for igniting her soldiers, and sent several in at once. Ally kicked one in the chest, knocking him out of the light to explode harmlessly on the grass. Julia fought with another, his increasingly smoking form telling her just how dangerous this situation was.

"We've got to move," Wood said. "Let's go."

Willow took a few steps forward, the light pouring from her getting closer and closer to Colleen. The vampire seemed to be thinking about it, trying to figure out how long each one of her soldiers lasted to best time her own attack. The problem definitely seemed to be that right hand the white witch was holding aloft. A few seconds might just be enough to remove it.

"How many of these guys does she have?" Xander asked.

"They turn out more and more every night," Faith said. "I've been telling you guys…"

Xander patted out a burst of flame on Ally's arm, shaking her a little bit to get her to meet his eyes. "You're ok," he said.

Colleen backed up along the trail as the group moved forward. As soon as they were clear of the churchyard, she snapped her wrists somehow and two long, slender daggers fell into her hands.

She ran into the light, nothing happening at first. Wood met her with a shoulder block, knocking her to one side. She spun in place, pulling Ally's legs out from under her before turning back to the ebony warrior on her other side.

Wood tried to block the double stab with his bastinado but Colleen was just too strong. The Slayer's blood that coursed through her veins was like crystal meth to a human. Her speed, strength, and power were all unbeatable.

Faith jumped forward, grabbing Colleen's wrists and trying to keep her under control. Colleen spun and dropped to the ground in a beautiful pirouette, leaving Faith holding her ancient leather jacket.

"Fuck me," Colleen said, hopping back to her feet and out of the sunlight for a moment to catch her breath. Faith threw the jacket aside and wiped blood off her chin.

Colleen attacked from behind them, nearly knocking Ally out of the sunlight. Xander tackled her and tried to pull her down, but Colleen just grabbed his waistline and held him at arm's length.

"Pathetic one-eyed…" she said, dropping Xander on his face.

Faith punched Colleen from her unguarded left side, nearly stepping on Xander to do so. He rolled and got the hell out of the way, but not so far that he got out of the light. Wood caught him before several adventurous arms pulled him out of the light. Colleen's minions surrounded them, menacing from the shadows.

Colleen staggered a moment, but threw several counters at Faith. Ally and Julia both joined the fight, and Colleen faded back into the darkness again.

"Spread out," Faith said. "Willow, keep walking."

"Ok," Willow said.

Colleen threw a couple of gas-soaked minions at them before coming back in to attack. Ally and Julia were each trying to hold off a human torch but Wood had thrown the last one clear, while Faith and Xander tried to handle Colleen.

She grabbed Faith and flipped her to the ground. One of her daggers reappeared from its wrist sheath and she stabbed the ground where Faith's face had been. Xander planted a kick between her shoulder blades that sent her staggering out of the sunlight and back into the night.

"This isn't over," Colleen said, her voice fading behind them.

They marched in unison along the trail until they reached the street. Willow had no idea where to go so she followed Principle Wood's lead. Before long they came to the SUV that Faith had brought backup in.

"I can't wait to get home," Julia said, climbing into the back seat. They all squeezed in with her, as thankful as she was.

* * *

Connor and Bethany came back from patrol just around the time that Spike, Illyria, and Wesley came upstairs with their plan drawn up. It was time to meet with Sin Jinn and the Gunn-men to coordinate their efforts. 

"Anything new?" Spike asked, as Connor fell into step beside him.

"Nope," Connor said. "The Army's finally here, but they're not doing much besides rounding people up and clearing them out."

"How long until they reach here?" Wesley asked.

"A few days, maybe."

"We'd better have things all nice and tidy by then," Spike said.

"The armies of the world will have other issues to deal with besides taking this building from me," Illyria said.

"Probably, but they will be here eventually." Spike turned to walk backwards, keeping an eye on Illyria as they came to the main conference room. Sin Jinn and Angel were sitting inside, flanked by Cordelia and Dawn; the windows boarded up and blacked out to allow the vampires refuge from the budding noon.

"Ok people," Angel said. "Let's see what you got."

Illyria spread the map out on the table. "These red circles indicate areas of increased demonic activity."

"What kind of activity?" Cordy asked.

"Anything. We're not sure if these are just areas that get patrolled more often or if there is simply more demons there." Wesley pointed to one. "This area, in particular, we know Connor has passed through numerous times on the way to the hotel. And each time he's encountered something."

"So these are the areas to hit first?" Angel asked.

"We don't know, really," Spike said. "We guess if you go there you'll find something, but there's no guarantee that these are nests or anything."

Illyria staggered for a moment, glaring at Dawn. Spike tried to step between them without being too obvious.

"What's happening?" Cordy asked.

"Dawn has to leave," Wesley said.

"Me? What did I do?"

"Dawn," Spike said, reaching across the table for her hand to make sure he had her attention. "Imagine a door closing. Dirt being thrown on a grave. A tunnel collapse. Going underwater, anything." As Spike talked the imagery could help coming to Dawn's mind. Illyria seemed to relax after a moment.

"How did you know to do that?" Illyria asked.

"I don't know," Spike said.

"You just saved all our lives," Wesley said. "Very fortuitous."

"What was that?" Angel asked. Everyone was talking at once.

"Apparently me being a key and her having half her powers locked away means bad things can happen." Dawn kind of frowned, wondering if it was too late to head to Cleveland.

"If we learn to control it, then good things can happen," Illyria said.

"You two are out until this is settled. Take whoever you need and make it happen." Angel pointed, absolutely still in command of this group. "Spike, you and Connor hit this." He picked a red circle at random and sent them off. Bethany went with Connor, and Wesley went with Illyria.

Angel turned to Sin Jinn next. "How many people can you send out?"

"Two fives," Sin Jinn replied.

"Ok," Angel said, "Here and here." He picked at random again, something close to the bank for now. Sin Jinn took the map with him and left. Now, only Angel and Cordy remained in the boardroom.

"Any visions?" Angel asked.

"Faith is doing better," Cordy said. "Is that really what you want to talk about?"


	5. Chapter 5

"The things I want to talk about, we can't change." Angel frowned before sitting back down at the head of the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cordy followed him with her eyes.

"I don't know if I can trust you," Angel said. "Until I do, I won't..."

"I came back for _you_, Angel. I know it's going to take you some time, but I want you to know I'm not possessed. I'm not evil. And I'm not going anywhere."

"That's good, Cordy. Really." Angel reached his hand across the table. "And I do want to believe you."

"I know."

"But that… thing, it slept with my son. It told me that you saw everything I'd ever done and hated me for it. That changed everything."

"I loved you for a reason, Angel. And you loved me for a reason, too. Once you see that I'm telling the truth, it'll all make sense."

"Sometimes it feels like nothing ever makes sense."

"Because you didn't die in your grand gesture, attacking the Circle?"

Cordy always had a way of knowing exactly what Angel was feeling. He didn't bother trying to hide it from her now. He just lowered his head.

"Living is the hardest thing a person can do," she said. It was an obvious statement, but just the sort of thing people needed to hear sometimes.

"I can't tell you how good it is to have you back." Angel gave her fingers a squeeze. "I missed you."

"I know."

"I wanted to talk to you so bad. I tried to find you."

"I never blamed you, Angel."

"Yeah, but we all knew something was wrong… with you. Well, the thing in your body. We couldn't figure it out. Skip said you were still in there, so I couldn't risk it."

"I forgive you," Cordy said, kissing Angel's hand.

* * *

Gwen sat with the lights off in one of the break rooms on the second floor, idly picking at a bag of chips. She was up on one of the tables, cross-legged, with a water bottle tucked between her feet.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she said to herself, looking up at the ceiling.

The dim blush from the vending machines was the only light on her elegant face. A lone tear fell off her cheek, evaporating in a tiny spark. It was impossible for her to differentiate between physical lust and chemical love. She hadn't experienced enough of either.

What she felt for Charles was twisted up in her virginity and his death. She wasn't sure if those feelings were real, but she did know that she _could _have loved him, if they'd only had the time.

And that was the worst feeling of all. She couldn't help wondering what would have gone differently if she hadn't run away. Or if she'd decided to come back sooner. Could she have saved Gunn? Or was it simply his fate to die that night? That started her down a new path of thinking, wondering whether fate was flexible or rigid.

Gwen had missed that meeting where everyone received his or her assignments. So she had nothing to do but mope. But that wasn't her style. Not when there was a wide world out there going on without her.

It was impossible not to hear the sounds of Illyria and the others below. She didn't know where anyone else was, but that was a good enough place to start. She threw what remained of her food in the garbage and started following the noise.

It wasn't long before she found them in one of the larger rooms in the basement, which looked much worse for wear. Several days of training had left a hole in the drywall that revealed electrical cables and a dangerously bent water pipe, and the cracks in the floor made walking a risky proposition.

Dawn stood on one side, pressed up against the wall. She had her eyes open but they were unfocused, staring into space. Her palms were sweaty, and she occasionally wiped her hands on her too-tight pants self-consciously.

Illyria was as far away as she could get without leaving. She stood near the windowsill and focused all her attention on a small African violet that sat upon it. She furrowed her brow and bit the tip of her tongue in concentration, trying desperately to hear what the plant was saying.

Spike and Wesley were between them, each facing their respective ward and trying to avoid the shimmering beam of nothingness that passed between the key and the lock.

Gwen leaned up against the door and watched, curious about what they were doing. It didn't look like any training session she'd ever seen.

"You're fine," Wesley told Illyria.

"You're in control," Spike said at nearly the same time, taking a step closer to Dawn. "Just stay loose, niblet."

"I feel ok," Dawn said.

Yet Illyria and Dawn seemed anxious. It was unlike anything they'd ever had to do. But it was worth it.

"I can hear," Illyria said, brushing her fingers along a fuzzy rosette of leaves encircling a double flowerbud.

Dawn almost collapsed with relief. They'd done it. It had always been technically possible, but accomplishing it without any explosions was no small feat.

Spike was a blur as he raced in to catch Dawn before she fell.

"I think that's just about enough for today," he said.

"No," she said. "I'm ok." She pressed back against the wall for support and pushed herself up again.

"You sure, Dawnie?" Spike's face was fraught with worry.

"Like you said," she smiled, "I'm in control."

"What happens if that touches you?" Gwen asked, as Wesley sidestepped the strange shimmer that offered the only indication of anything unusual going on between them. It looked more like the distortion above new asphalt on a hot summer day than any cohesive beam, but it was definitely there.

"We don't know yet," Wesley said, still taking efforts to keep clear of the energy.

"Is it always going to be like this?" Gwen asked.

"We don't know that yet, either," Wesley said.

"I expect it gets easier after they get used to it," Spike said.

"I see," Gwen said, still confused.

* * *

Connor had told Spike not to worry about patrolling with them. He'd be more useful helping Dawn and Illyria. Besides, it was early evening and he didn't feel like waiting for sunset. Bethany was tough enough to back him up. She was probably more capable than Spike in certain situations.

For now they had time to walk largely unimpeded, while the timeless California sun glinted off her strawberry hair. Her boots still looked strangely out of place, but her dress and delicate necklace was pure innocent Midwest.

"You're gorgeous," Connor said, suddenly taking her hand.

Her light green eyes twinkled as she smiled. They were on the familiar route from the bank to the hotel. It was only a matter of time before they found something, but living under siege teaches you to find pleasure in those moments you can.

"What's your dad like?" Bethany asked.

"Let's not talk about him."

"Why not?" Bethany asked, scrambling to come up with a reason. "You know how few vampires with a soul there are in the world?"

"Two," Connor said. "But you aren't interested in Spike, are you?"

"Not really," Bethany admitted. "I was just wondering how close…" (She smacked his ass.) "…you were to your daddy."

"We're fine. What's it to you?"

"Nothing, ok?" Bethany dropped his hand to fold her arms across her chest. "Just forget it."

"No," Connor said. "I want to know why you care so much."

"It's nothing."

This walk went longer than any other but before long they were interrupted. It seemed one demonic motorcycle gang, the Hellriders, was fighting another, the Reavers, just a few blocks away from the Hyperion.

"There's no way we can take them all," Bethany said. "Even if we get the jump."

"Maybe we can get close enough for you to end the fight."

"Who wins?"

"I don't care. As long as we get past them."

Sticking to the shadows, they tried to get as close as they could. Bethany enhanced attacks, made victims clumsy, changed gears on motorcycles, anything she could think of to deter the demons.

Connor cocked his head, as was becoming vogue among the Fang Gang, and departed. Bethany continued her work, barely pausing when she heard a violent _crunch _from behind her just before he reappeared at her side.

"That should be enough," he said. "Let's get out of here before they find us."

* * *

Driving wasn't the safest option, but it beat the hell out of walking. Crammed into Faith's SUV were four Slayers, a witch, and a human, a force that should have been capable of nearly any task. But the truck was racing through a gauntlet, trying to cross the city before Colleen could mobilize her army to stop them.

Faith zoomed along doing sixty on residential streets, desperately trying to keep ahead of the coming storm. They'd see occasional glimpses of the red and black sports car the vampire drove, pacing them along side streets or trying to beat them to turn-offs.

"Can't you do anything?" Ally cried, as Colleen appeared to trade paint with them from behind.

"I'm trying," Willow said. "But it's protected."

"Well you better do something."

"I'm trying!"

Another jolt from the bumper pushed them back into their seats.

"Hold on," Faith said, as the hit sent the vehicle skidding. She managed to regain control, but there was no outperforming Colleen's car.

"That's it," Willow said. "Open the roof."

Wood was in the passenger seat, and familiar with the controls. He pressed a button and the tinted glass slid out of the way. Willow pushed herself halfway out and then turned around to face their pursuer.

She raised her hand and flame enveloped it. She tossed one fireball after another, easily summoning the elemental's power. Some bounced off the hood of Colleen's Pontiac, leaving black scorch marks in the paint. Others exploded on the street, forcing Colleen to dodge and weave.

"We've got to lose them," Julia said. "We're too close."

"Ok," Faith said, taking a right turn that nearly rolled the top-heavy SUV.

Willow fought to keep her balance in the tiny opening the sunroof provided. Her eyes faded to black as she clasped both hands together and sent a stream of fire towards Colleen's windshield.

Colleen stuck her middle finger out into the heat for just a second before backing off. Faith made several more random turns before bee lining for the base.

* * *

The new building for the Watcher's Council wasn't quite as large as the original. Fewer entrances and exits made it easier to keep track of the comings and goings of the various members.

Giles had chosen the largest office to make his own, although he didn't quite have enough furniture to fill it yet. He had brought several things by using the Slayers as his personal moving company … they could haul a ton if you balanced it right.

"Not bad," Buffy said upon entering.

"It will do, for now," Giles replied. He pulled off his glasses and absently buffed the lenses. "How is everything downstairs?"

"We're just about done. That's what I was coming to tell you."

"So the security perimeter is in place?"

"Yeah, we're just about done."

"Good." Giles stood up and came around his massive desk. "Let's go take a look, shall we?"

Buffy fell into step beside him as they walked down the hall. She'd be a lot happier if she could find some way to get rid of Giles. Ever since he set up Spike, Buffy had a hard time trusting him about anything. Even this, setting up the Council, seemed like some sort of trick or trap for her girls.

"How long until the sleepers come?" Buffy asked.

"I've sent the commands, it shouldn't take long for them to gather their things and report for duty."

"I'd feel a lot better if we'd heard anything from the Immortal yet. It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." Buffy frowned, before worrying about the wrinkles it might cause her. Her regeneration was truly something magical, but she wasn't as young as she used to be.

"His actions are too unpredictable. For all we know simply chasing us out of Italy was enough for him."

"Somehow I doubt it," Buffy said. "What about that stuff he said about Dawn?"

"She's fine now, in Angel's care."

"Not if Illyria had her way. I still want to go beat her ass for that."

"Illyria meant no harm, and recruited a powerful new ally to help save Los Angeles."

They stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. Vi and Rona were in the middle of an argument, a heavy piece of electrical equipment on the floor between them.

"If you just pick your end up, we can get over to the wall," Vi said.

"But it'd make so much more sense if we just went around this thing," Rona said, pointing at a mass of cables and a series of small monitors that crossed most of the lobby.

"Hey, what's going on?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, Buffy," Rona said. "We were just discussing the merits of our two options for placing this power router.

Buffy stepped forward and heaved the thing over her head. "Where do you want it?"

Several of the other former Potentials were working around the area as well. A man in a sharp gray suit seemed to be supervising.

"Who's that?" Giles asked, quietly.

"That's the guy you hired to set this thing up."

"That's the Qualinesti shaman?"

"Seems to be," Buffy said.

"He wasn't sent here by Wolfram & Hart was he?"

"I don't think so. The guy at the bodega recommended him." Vi wiped her brow with her wristband.

"I think I'll go introduce myself," Giles said, stepping over some debris to cross the lobby.

* * *

Chao-Ahn was trying to understand what happened. She and Faith were in the kitchen, still within easy earshot of the entire first floor, but still private enough for conversation. Complete immersion meant that Chao-Ahn had picked up a few words. But because of her line of work, none of them were fit for polite conversation.

"Vum-pyr?" Chao-Ahn asked.

"Yeah," Faith said, slowly. "Colleen."

"Ver-a bad?"

"Yeah," Faith said, a little louder than necessary. "Maxine is dead."

Ally collapsed onto the couch and put her feet on the table. The only other Slayers who had come to Cleveland were sitting around the living room, except Julia who had gone upstairs for a shower.

Rosacherne was a quiet Icelandic girl with steel blue eyes and dyed bright pink hair. Her roots were growing in so bright yellow occasionally revealed itself underneath. Her poor tolerance for heat meant she had a proclivity to walk around nearly nude, currently in a light tank top and barely-there shorts. Her long, long legs were tucked underneath her in the easy chair that sat diagonally beside the couch. Scars and bruises covered what was visible of her body, and she had a white bandage taped to her head. Her flip-flops were tucked under the chair.

On the other end of the couch was Jennifer, a fiery redhead who came along because she enjoyed fighting with Faith. Jennie was the kind of girl who didn't care about odds, didn't care about chances; all she wanted to know was who was right. She'd fight for good and truth until her last breath. She had been studying law, intending to be a federal prosecutor, before Giles had found her and taken her to Sunnydale with him.

Her older sister, Jessica, sat in the middle on the couch gently resting her head on Jennie's shoulder. She was beautiful, but thick, covering her body with a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. She was neither particularly dedicated nor especially heroic, but she had stayed for the fight against the First, and she had ignored the chance to vacation in Europe (despite the fact that the vacation had turned out to be an ambush). She was a welcome ally and a caring friend.

Kennedy and Willow walked into the kitchen to see if they could help explain anything to Chao-Ahn. Willow mumbled a few words and sprinkled some dust on herself.

"Did this work?" she asked.

The expressions on the Slayer's faces told her that they couldn't understand a word of what she'd just said. Chao-Ahn smiled.

"You speak Cantonese?" she asked.

"No, the spell lets me talk to you though." Willow took Chao-Ahn's hand.

"I can cast this on you, if you want. It will let you understand everything that's being said around you, but you won't be able to speak Cantonese anymore."

"May I think about it?" she asked.

"I'm going to be here for a while, so feel free to take your time. Until you decide you can always come get me if you need to explain something."

"Thank you. Please tell me what happened?"


	6. Chapter 6

Sun steamed in on the disarray that was Faith's house. Wood and Xander were busy trying to board up the front window, while Rosacherne swept up broken glass. Colleen wasn't the only threat, and last night as Chao-Ahn and Jennie were coming back from patrol a pack of vampires had attacked them. Without an invitation they weren't able to get inside the house, but they'd done their best to drive their victims out.

The poor vamps didn't know what they were up against, and when eight Slayers poured out, armed to the teeth, they'd quickly realized their mistake. All that was left to do now was pick up the mess.

Willow was sitting at the dining room table, reading over her books. Kennedy was standing behind her, useless to the cleanup but at least out of the way. She idly picked through Willow's hair.

"You have roots here," Kennedy said.

"Everyone does," Willow said, not really paying attention. She was deep in a book about American history, dealing especially with the northeastern United States.

She was pretty sure she was starting to see a singular influence begin to emerge around the turn of the 18th century. But there were thousands of people who came to this country in the 1700s, finding one of them that mattered was going to be next to impossible.

Kennedy leaned down over her shoulder to whisper in Willow's ear. "Your hair is changing color."

"What?" she asked, all thoughts of ancient history gone. She took a mental inventory, trying to figure out if she felt any different.

"Your hair is coming back in red again."

"What could that mean?" she asked no one in particular.

"Maybe they think you've been misusing your magic." Kennedy tickled at Willow's ribs, but the white-head didn't giggle. Instead she just looked increasingly upset.

"Willow, I was only kidding."

"Yeah, but this isn't a joke. What's going on?"

"Maybe it's nothing. Maybe you weren't supposed to keep your white hair."

"But what about the power that I've had?"

"Is that really all you're worried about? Losing your power?" Kennedy frowned at her.

"No, you know that. But I have needed my powers on several occasions to save people."

"Well then I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about." Kennedy flashed a quick smile and spun away to go find some way to help the others.

Willow just sat there, wondering if she'd done something wrong.

* * *

Giles' meeting with the shaman had gone pretty much as expected. The shaman had only been on the site for a day but he'd already proven himself irascible and surly, quick to anger and even quicker to snap at someone. 

Giles had retreated to his office to allow matters to settle down. It was obvious he was no help downstairs. Buffy and the others continued to do the heavy lifting for the Qualinesti. Before long, most of the wires and other bits were tucked properly out of the way and the system was ready for testing.

Before they could get that far, though, a lone man walked into the lobby.

"I am here for the armies of Buffy the Vampire Slayer," he said, with a thick Italian accent.

Buffy dove and knocked the shaman down just as the messenger threw something on the ground which exploded. The other Slayers did their best to get out of the way of the blast but there was only so much they could do to protect themselves.

Buffy looked up through the smoke and saw the man running back outside. She pushed herself up and gave chase. Through the streets, twisting through alleys, obviously the Immortal's lackey was beyond human endurance and speed. Luckily, so was Buffy. It was only a matter of time before she kicked out her left foot and tripped him up.

"Now you're going to come back to my office and explain to me why you just blew up my lobby."

"I'm sorry," the man said. "I'm only doing my job. Please don't kill me. I have a family."

"You're going to have a leak if you don't tell me what I want to hear."

"A… a leak? I do not understand."

Buffy pulled a knife out of her belt. "Clear now?"

"Crystal," he said, nodding politely.

"Is anyone hurt?" Buffy yelled as they made their way back into the lobby.

"Sam is," Rona said. "She was the closest one to it."

"Get her to the hospital," Buffy said, indicating Rona and Vi. "I'm taking our visitor upstairs.

The shaman stood nearby, dusting himself off. "Will you be requiring my services during the interrogation?" he asked.

"I think so, since the bomb got through your supposedly impervious defenses."

"Defenses, which I must add, were not yet engaged. We'll see if such an attack is more or less successful tomorrow." He followed her to the elevator.

"Have you searched your hostage yet?" the Qualinesti asked.

"No," Buffy said, still holding both of the assassin's wrists in her hand. "Give him the once over."

"Return the lift to the ground floor, please," the well-dressed shaman said. "Our guest has the upper hand now."

"What's the problem?" Buffy asked.

"He has another spell upon him. I suggest we get him outside before it goes off."

Buffy hit the emergency stop button and pried the doors open. They were half way between the sixth and seventh floors. She squeezed through to drop down to the sixth floor and grabbed the would-be killer's ankle to pull him through. Running down the hallway with him in tow, she stopped and the end.

Lifting him over her head, she chucked him through the window, ducking as he exploded in the air outside. Guts and blood rained down upon the street below, but little damage was done.

"Well, I guess that's it," the shaman said, returning the elevator to normal operation and heading back to the lobby.

Buffy just stood, staring off into space.

* * *

Daybreak was still an hour or so away in Los Angeles. Spike and Illyria were on a rare patrol together. She felt it was important to make her presence felt in and around her kingdom. Spike was just eager for the chance to do real violence, he'd had enough of pulling his punches for practice. 

They had left the bank with Connor and Bethany, who were heading out for their third trip of the day. After a few blocks together, the two groups went their separate ways and agreed to be ready to back each other up.

"So, how's it feel to be walking the unbeaten path again?" Spike asked. He took a deep breath and savored the smell and the taste of the fresh air around him.

"If the armies of the mortals get any closer we shall have to fight them, too."

"I don't like the thought of smacking around the good guys."

"They will not consider us their allies. They will think we are with the rest of the evil that has taken over this city."

"Look, Blue. The National Guard still has to make it through half a city before they're any sort of threat to us. If you're asking me to launch some sort of preventive strike against people who are basically innocent…"

"I ask nothing," Illyria said flatly. "I merely state the obvious. The humans will become a nuisance, and we will have to choose."

"Well let's not burn any bridges before we come to them," Spike said, his temper cooling a bit.

"Which way do you wish to go?" Illyria asked. They had come to a T in the road, their only options were north and south.

"Connor and his new girlfriend said they're looking to go to the northern reservoir. I reckon we should head the opposite way."

"We will not have much longer to spend out here, unless you wish to continue your existence in a less cohesive material form."

"I don't follow, Bluebird."

"You will be dusted by the dawn, half-breed."

"Oh," Spike said. He took a glance at his watch. "Oh, fair enough. Maybe we had better head back"

"You're not going anywhere," a strange voice called from the shadows.

"Oh now just who the hell do you think you are?" Spike asked, laughing.

"I have been brought here," he said, stepping out of the shadows and into the glow of a streetlight. "To bring order."

He was huge, armored, and evil. It seemed like half of the residents of this city were these days.

"I hope you brought friends," Spike leered.

The newcomer reached behind him and unlatched a massive iron axe from his back. It chipped the pavement as he slammed it to the ground, resting his hand on the pommel.

"Ok," Spike said.

Illyria laughed at his feeble attempts at intimidation. "I shall put your axe up your…"

"Hey," Spike said out of the corner of his mouth. "What do you think?"

"I think that we shall hang this one from a light post so that all may learn of his bravery, and what it earned him."

"Bring it on," he said, hefting his axe. "I'll show you the powers of a complete Old One."

Illyria paused, cocking her head. "You are no Old One."

"Is that so, fractured little god-king?" He laughed.

Illyria strode forward and punched the smile off his face. He fell to the ground, and spit into the dirt.

"Stand," she said.

He started to push himself up and she kicked him in the head, trying to launch his skull like a soccer ball. He spun around in place, his feet coming around to trip her except she jumped over them.

Spike stood off to the side. It wasn't really his style to jump a man while he was down, and besides, it looked like Illyria had things well in hand.

The demon rolled away from her before spinning through the air to land on his feet. He held out his massive palm, and the axe flew to it like a magnet. He swung wide to Illyria's left, busting pavement. Again, wide to her right, shattering the road. His final swing was coming directly for her.

She didn't flinch, didn't hesitate, and didn't even consider his potential strength. She just took a step forward so the axe would pass harmlessly behind her and threw all the strength she could muster into a kick directed at his left knee.

He stumbled, forming a tripod of support with one foot, one knee, and one palm on the ground. His other arm rested across his leg, with his axe held firmly in place.

Illyria backed up a moment, allowing him to recover.

"So long as it is known that this neighborhood is mine, I am willing to let you leave," she said.

"And how long until every neighborhood must be yours to prevent conflict?" the demon asked, raising his axe to the sky.

"You think I am your enemy?" Illyria asked, surprised and taking a step back.

"I know you are my foe." He stood to his full height, took a deep breath and looked into Illyria's eyes. "For I was summoned here to claim Los Angeles in the name of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Heart."

As the demon spoke, Spike saw the skies light up behind him. He tugged at Illyria's sleeve. "Here it comes."

Spike had no choice but to take a few steps backward or else he would have been burned alive. Illyria had no such fear and was certainly unwilling to retreat. She stalked towards the dragon and its rider, ready to smash them both to bits if that was what it took. But before she could get there, he had mounted and the beast was pushing off into the air.

"Tell me where you're staying," he called down. "I'll be sure to visit."

* * *

Cordelia and Angel were in the boardroom, explaining the night shift plans to Sin Jinn. He had been rotating his soldiers in and out of the realm quite often lately, allowing them rest and reprieve between their patrols. Unfortunately he was stuck waiting for Illyria to come back to open the portal to Vahla Ha'nesh. 

"So tonight we'll be looking here," Angel said. "And here." He was pointing to a couple of places on the map with his pen.

Cordelia was silently watching him. Her eyes never left his face. She had a slight schoolgirl smile on her face, as though she were watching her crush play football instead of watching Angel wage war.

Sin Jinn stood up and offered Angel his hand. Their shake looked like some art-house photograph about racial integration, but the situation was a lot more serious than that. There was no issue of race here in the bank, because all that mattered was what it meant to be human.

Sin Jinn took the map and headed down to the lobby to wait for Illyria's return. Several of his men were standing guard there, and a handful more were waiting to go inside. No one was manning the security stations at the moment. There wasn't time during a shift change to cover the distance from the monitors to the portal.

"Ed, you set?" Sin Jinn asked as he walked in.

"Yeah," one of the Gunn-men replied. "Soon as this bitch gets here we're all good."

"Ok." Sin Jinn took a place near the old receptionist's desk. He spread the map out on top of it.

"You're staying out again?" Ed asked, looking his leader over with concern.

"I've got to, man." Sin Jinn took out his own pen and made a few marks on the map. He indicated the two areas that Angel wanted and tried to decide what the best place would be for a third team.

Illyria and Spike walked in after a few minutes. She was charred but otherwise unharmed. Spike went immediately up to Angel's office, but she paused in the lobby.

A brief wave of her hand and the portal shimmered open.

"I really think you should get some rest," Ed said before heading inside.

As usual, food and water went in, and garbage came out. Sin Jinn grabbed the first Gunn-man to come out and showed him the map, then went through the portal himself.

It closed behind him, sealing him into this vast, dead world. Columns rose up along either side of a grand promenade that lead up to the temple complex itself. What used to be a mighty river was now just a seemingly endless gorge behind the castle.

Rubble and ruin were all over the place. Though they didn't know it, piles of ancient bodies and armor, long since turned to dust themselves, lay everywhere as well.

Sin Jinn grabbed a load of water off of one of the civilians and followed them up to the sanctuary. Things started looking a lot better the closer they got. Pots with blooming plants inside seemed to brighten the mood a little bit.

The steps had been swept clean, and a rug had been laid out to ease one's path into the palatial complex.

"Sin Jinn," one of the women said. "So glad to see you here."

"Hey, Rita," he said, walking over to give her a quick hug.

"What brings you in?" she asked.

"Just checking on things."

"Hey," Ed called. "You made it."

"Yeah, I decided I could use a rest."

"Well, let me show you around a bit," Ed said. He grabbed Sin Jinn by the upper arm and led him through the opened temple doors. Inside was the main hall of worship, but it was mostly empty. A few people sat in the wide open space at the front, mending clothing or weaving rugs.

Along one side of the room, tables had been set up with the massive water jugs on them. Piles of snack food and other items with a decent shelf life were there, too.

"Through there and down the hall a good ways is the bathroom," Ed said, pointing to an archway that led out to the east. It was open on one side, allowing light from the perpetual dusk inside.

"And over here are the bedrooms." Ed guided Sin Jinn around several displaced pews and into the western archway. As they walked along the windless corridor, Ed pointed out doors, telling Sin Jinn who stayed in each room. About halfway along the span, they came to a room that had been reserved for him if he ever chose to stay.

Ed opened the door and revealed what must have been the living quarters of the old high priest. The bed was decorated in gold and splendor, and intricately woven rugs covered every inch of the floor.

"Are they all like this?" Sin Jinn asked.

"Pretty much," Ed said. "These dudes lived in style."

"Fair enough, man." Sin Jinn went over to the bed and lay back. "I'm good then."

Ed closed the door behind him, leaving the people's leader of free Los Angeles to his thoughts.

* * *

After Sin Jinn left, Cordy and Angel had stayed behind in the boardroom. Angel had another map that he was looking at, and Cordy had another one in front of her. She was trying to learn how to use her demonic powers and her visions to scry for trouble on the map, but was having little success. 

"Maybe it just doesn't work that way," Angel said.

"Maybe," Cordy said, but she didn't sound convinced. "I guess I'll just have to keep trying."

Angel studied the other map. "We've got to step up the patrols, we need to see if these are just random sightings or if there is something drawing the demons to these areas."

"Or I need to learn how to scry."

"Yeah," Angel said with a laugh. "Either or."

"I'm telling you," she said. "They do it all the time on _Charmed._"

"That's a tv show, though. This is real life."

"Yeah, sometimes I wish everything could be wrapped up in a neat little bow for us." Cordy sighed before picking up her pendant again. "What keeps you in the fight?"

"I don't know," Angel said. "I guess I have to do something."

"Is that really all it is?" she asked.

"Sometimes." Angel looked over at her. "But most of the time, I feel like things could get better if we all just try."

"That's a good answer," she said. "I like that."

"There's no reason to butter me up," he said.

"I'm not," she replied. "It's like what you told Connor, before he got all Jaws the Return on you."

"I guess." Angel flipped the map around, looking at it from the other side. They'd tried all sorts of combinations to see if the sightings were forming into any sort of geographic pattern, but it was possible to see all sorts of order in any picture of chaos. There were still to this day people convinced that the mountains of Mars hold secrets, because of their positional relationships.

"We just need something more concrete," Angel said.

"No, you need to learn how to leave it behind. It's almost dawn and you're still working yourself half to death."

"If I don't do this, who will?"

"Let Spike share some of the load," she suggested.

"Ha," Angel said. "Spike wouldn't know what to do if I put him in charge. He's too busy chasing down cups of Mountain Dew to bother with the real world."

"Well you have to let someone help you," she said.

"Yeah," Angel said. "I know."

Cordy got up and stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders.

He sighed. "That feels nice." He leaned his head back and she started running her fingers through his hair.

"I missed you so much," she said. "It feels like it's been forever."

Angel opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Let's not wait so long next time."

She leaned down and kissed him. "I like that answer, too."


End file.
